If you are a going to Scar......

Since my last posting we have not been sitting still, indeed much has been done and continues to be done. The Makos are still winning, giving me much pleasure, not long to go now boys.  My god I'm pleased I am not  a Wellington supporter, must be very lonely.
Starting at the beginning, our last full day at Laverton had us going for a little train trip from Bedale to Redline, known as the Wensleydale railway. Now it just so happens that my GGG grandparents, the Edens, were from Bedale so a bit of nostalgia here.

Bedale church where GGG grandparents Eden were married

Bedale station, start of our Wensleydale railway experience.

The Wensleydale railway was formed by a group of enthusiasts in 2003 and is a restored section of a branch line that was closed finally in the 90s, having survived an earlier closure back in the 50s. These people have done a wonderful job and now there is a railway , complete with stations and all the other paraphernalia required to run three return trips daily. Most enjoyable, might even make a railway buff out of me yet. Later in the day we went on to Richmond and a quick visit to the castle, very good display explaining the feudal system and how it worked.

Richmond from atop its castle.

Alas, yesterday was the last that we could spend in  the cottage we had called home for  a week in Laverton and so after our usual toast and  cuppa it was time to move on once more, out of the Dales and up onto the moors. The moors are quite a different kettle of Yorkshire puddings, much more French, the villages with orange tiled roofs and even the names of the villages. We are to experience village life in Hutton le Hole and when I say in I mean in. We are slap bang in the middle of the village green surrounded by sheep, there are no fences up here in the moors national park so they wander here there and everywhere. Village has a pub across the road, a couple of tearooms and the Ryedale folk museum. Mrs Currin dosen't want to visit the museum but I may get her in the pub.

Our house in the middle of the village green.

Village church, now a coffee shop

Pub right across the road.

Arrived here last evening and though we may try the pub for diner, but soon found we were too tired so had a quiet night in instead.

Today we headed to the coast, stopping for coffee in Norton le Dale on the way and couldn't help noticing the below sign, breakfasts in particular CAN be quite cheap and you certainly get plenty. Wish you were here Murray.

That'a $10.50 NZ money

Whilst talking about Murray, he came to mind the other day, I was reminded of when he told us about when he first arrived in Palmerston North he was startled to hear over the radio an ad. for a huge bra sale at Farmers and wondered at all the big breasted woman that must be wandering around Palmy. Well, as I say I was reminded of our Murray when,  on the news the other day, a massive man hunt was announced. Looking for a massive man they are.....Murray??

Anyway back to the trip to the seaside. It has been a  wonderful day with temperatures in the low 20s and what better place to go on such a day that  Scarborough, that icon of English beach resorts, up there with Brighton , Blackpool and Great Yarmouth along with many many others. Well we have had a great old time and never got any further along the coast than Scarborough itself.

Scarborough from the castle.

The obligatory donkeys on the beach.

Life before personal communication devices in the police.

800 year old church next to the castle.

Just back from the pub where we had supper tonight, roast and it was delicious. Beef for Mrs Currin and Lamb for yours truly, couldn't help following up with sticky date pud. The end to a near perfect day. Probably head back up the coast tomorrow, see how far we get....I hear they have award winning fish and chips in Whitby....himmmmm.

Yesterday on our way here we stopped and visited an 18th c. house and rather a good collection of prints from the era, all reproducing Joshua Reynolds original portraits by a method known as mezzotinting. This produces an almost photographic result and for the age must have been  something pretty impressive. 

Example of mezzotinting (Sorry about reflections)

Well another another day, another blog...so it's goodbye from me and its goodbye to you.

All the best and take care,

David

Flowers on the wall

Yesterday we retraced our steps to Skipton, a market town not far from where we are currently staying. It is a very picturesque place and has a very active canal boat base. Not ones to miss such a chance we were soon aboard for a short trip up a small side canal which was the basis for a rock quarry transport system from yesteryear, some of the remains of which are still evident. Dominating this stretch of the canal is Skipton castle which is still used as a family home and is currently occupied by a family of jewellers whose name escapes me at the moment.

Skipton Castle

Fred Trueman in bronze , a local hero hereabouts.

A most enjoyable little trip on the canal and after a good look at the town's market we moved on to Settle which sits at the southern terminus of the Settle to Charlisle railway, not that we wished to make the trip, but more that we liked the sound of this town. On the way, on rounding a corner in the town of Conastin Cold our attention was caught by a blaze of colour. Now I like begonias but this was carrying it a bit far.

One begonia two begonia .......

Returning to where we were, Settle, this little town more than lived up to our expectations and we were soon getting lost in it's narrow winding streets. Inevitably we found ourselves at the station. Now for all their eccentricities the English do this sort of thing very well.

Settle railway station

 All in all a quiet but enjoyable day, quite relaxing.

Whilst we have been travelling we have been getting updates from Evan and Pam Jamieson who are currently doing a canal trip from Budapest to Amsterdam, similar to the one we shall be doing in a little over a month. They seem to be really enjoying themselves which is encouraging for us. This reminds us that we have but two weeks left in Britain before going of on other adventures, although we do return here on an off.

Today has seen a return to more vigorous activities, although not outrageously so, and our first visit to stately homes for some time. We picked a real beauty for this and although we had never heard of it before it proved most interesting. Newby Hall dates from the 17th. c. and was designed and built by Sir Chritopher Wrenn for someone whose name escapes me. In the early 18th. c. it was put on the market and this property, which by then included several villages and many hundred acres of land, went for the princely sum of 9,000 pounds, a huge sum, maybe in those days, but still considered quite a bargain. The interior design was by Adams and woodwork by Chippendale (doors, banisters, furniture ..everything), all together quite a pedigree. It is remarkable that the home is still just that, a home and is used daily to entertain people....people called simply Charles and Camilla according to the visiter's book. I don't quite know who these good folk may be but it appears they visit on a quite regular basis. The house is almost exactly the same as it always has been with original furniture and even the Waterford crystal (high in lead , more expensive you see) and German porcelain survive.

Newby Hall

One room alone which  features made to measure tapestries from the best available to Royalty in France to adorn the walls and furniture by Chippendale must be worth in the millions. These were not thrown together but rather they were deliberately made to compliment one another.
You may think that I was impressed by this place, I was.

From the house it was out into the garden which although we have picked a slightly strange time of year to visit was still quite magnificent, no there was no Capability Brown invloved, but still very nice. The transition  from the floral colours of summer to the foliage of autumn are slowly becoming evident and the end result will be quite spectacular I am sure.

Autumn Colours on the way

From Newby it was on to something quite different. Fountains Abbey was built early in the 12th. c. by Cistercian monks and flourished until the dissolution of the monasteries. This is a considered to be the one of the  most complete Abbeys in the country, it is also one of the largest. One irony remains, that of a seat called Ann Bolyn's seat, now was she not a wife of Henry VIII and wasn't he something to do with the dissolution. What was she doing here? One also wonders at the need for a prison in a Monestry. Anyway a fine place to visit and certainly deserving of more time than we were able to give it today.

Fountains Abbey

Oh, I must return to Newby. As when we were driving in we had noticed  a striking little church and determined that we should stop by and check it out when leaving. This little gem has an unusual story to it. During the tour of the house a small shrine was brought to our attention with a portrait  (death portrait to be exact) of a young man at it's centre. It seems that this young fellow, a son of the family, was holidaying in Greece when set upon by brigands who demanded a ransom for his release. Getting cold feet his captors killed the unfortunate young man before the ransom could be paid. His body was returned to Britain and the ransom monies used to build the aforementioned church.

The Church at Newby Hall

It is tomorrow already, well I have just gotten around to finishing this in the pub with a glass of ale....just felt like it so there you go.

We are about to go home for our diner so all the best and until next time 

David

Stonewalled

As we were driving today it struck me as to Yorkshires dependence on stones. There must at one time have been millions of them scattered about, no doubt as a result of glacial action, at a time I know not when. They have over the past who knows how long been collected by who knows who and used to build the thousands of miles of drystone walls that help define this region. Many , many more have been used to build the houses over the centuries and this is continuing today. This man-made activity has shaped  the landscape as much as mother nature herself.

Stone walls dominate the countryside.

If I may go back a little , I mentioned in my last post Greg's Mill but forgot it's main claim to fame, it has, reputedly, the largest waterwheel, in Britain. Some statistics, the wheel is 7.3m in diameter, weighs 50 tonnes, develops 100 hp and requires 118,000 litres of water per minute. It still provides all the energy required to run the mill and is even more efficient now thanks to modern bearings and grease. Pretty impressive uh.

Driving through the countryside yesterday, my attention was grabbed by a farm of very large puffballs, or so it seemed. Now Nicky Haeger, would have a field day  with this little lot, makes  Waihopai (?) look puny. I couldn't get the whole lot in, in one shot but I'm sure you get the idea.

A field of giant puffballs.

Getting to our cottage can be quite a challenge as the roads out here in the Dales can be quite skinny, with very limited vision.

The road home.

 Getting used to it slowly (Mrs Currin not so much). Again our cottage is very comfortable and had everything that we require. It is a converted byre, and full of character with huge oak beams and stone walls.

The lounge in our Cottage.

Yesterday we travelled south to York , that magnificent walled city with it's enormous Minster. Earlier in the day we had visited Beverley, to the south of York and for a walled town it to had on impressive Minster. York, though has more to offer than walls and cathedrals, it is a beautiful city with much to offer the traveller, it's narrow streets with their strange names, the Shambles being up there with the best of them.

The Shambles.

York Minster and Street

The Choir in Beverley Minster.

Here in the Dales rivers seem to dominate the landscape and most Dales take the name of the river running through them. We are currently in Nidderdale through which runs the river Nidd. A lot of English rivers are not all that attractive but usually if one searches them out they do have parts which are of great beauty. We found one such place to at a place called How-Stean Gorge. Trouble is anything that attracts tourists also attracts people wanting money from them, and these wilderness experiences can end up costing plenty. No wonder the rambler-public footpath relationship is guarded so jealously. As in the lake district rambling is a major past time here in the Dales with groups of them to be seen everywhere. Surprised to see a steam train yesterday without the accompanying hoards of train spotters, mind you this was a regular sevice so maybe they had all seen it already. I have , so far, been spared the spectacle of Morris Dancing on this trip, only two weeks to go so may get away with it. This train was at Bolton Abbey Station which is in the Bolton Abbey estate owned by the the Duke of Devonshire whose home in Derbyshire, Chatsworth, we visited on our last trip. Bolton Abbey is his Yorkshire escape and consists of some 30,000 acres and includes villages, pubs and even it's town railway station.

As one drives around the area one recent event is constantly evident. TdF14. That's stands for The Tour de France (2014) and everywhere you look are yellow painted bicycles, attached to buildings, fences, hills and anything else to which a bicycle can be attached. The roads also bare reminders with painted words of encouragement still evident on the hills. Unfortunately, the crowd favourite, Mark Cavendish, never really made his mark, having to pull out early on.

The scars of The Tour.

Well I think that is going to have to do me for now, I must turn in and get some sleep. I shall publish this tomorrow.

All the best and take care..........oh and I have not forgotten the Makos........you beauties.

David

The Green and Pleasant Land

Having left our cottage in the North of Wales we headed up to Conwy on the north coast. We have been here before with our friends Marilyn and Roger but for reasons presently unknown had  neither dillied nor dallied to take in the many sites which this town has to offer. We both agreed that this was a town deserving of a very thorough  looking at, being a walled town with the wall still almost entirely intact.

Britain's Smallest House

This is reputed to  be Britain's smallest house and  consists of one room downstairs, kitchen come lounge come everything else and a bedroom upstairs.  It must have been difficult for  mum dad and four children which is what it housed at one  stage.

Conwy's oldest dwelling (700 years)

Once again the value of free  admission to National Trust properties through membership of New Zealand's Historic Places Trust is highlighted when one  visits properties such as above as they  would often be  bypassed otherwise.

Five years in the building.

We came out of the pub yesterday after lunch and there, parked right outside, was this little beauty, hand built over a period of five years, reminded me of someone who spent seven years building a boat at the expense of family picnics, or so  the story goes. This little truck runs almost entirely silently and only requires the odd shovel of coal to keep going.  

We spent a good part  of yesterday chasing down an internet signal of some sort to  catch up  on the NZ election and must say the result seems most pleasing.

Greg's Mill

The Mill Garden

There is, apparently, a period drama on TV called "The Mill" and we happened upon the said Mill which is quite a tourist attraction, and rightly so as it has been restored to original complete with apprentices house. There were some ninety "apprentices"

who were  recruited from the workhouses and indentured (?) from age 9 to 18. They were unpaid and lived in the most appalling way. We were shown the girl's dormitory, a little  larger  than our  family room, where 60 girls slept, two to  a bed. The boys fared a little  better with only ten per room, this to keep down the possibility of fights  breaking. They were woken at 5:30 work in the mill stared at 6:00 and breakfast (porridge) brought to them at 8. A 14 hour day was the norm, then chores had to be completed (needlework for the girls and gardening for the boys) then an hours education three times a week for the boys and once or twice for the  girls. Life in the Greg's mill was said to be much better than the norm for the times (18th c.)
I am updating this  blog in Harrogate in a cafe as we are quite unable  to get any form of internet in our current cottage, so must be brief so as to not overstay my welcome.

At the Canal Boat  Museum

Maybe a little longer or shorter would solve this dilemma..

Another fine  house and  garden

A Welsh Beach resort.

Well must away for the above reason.

All the best and take care.

David

A Labyrinth of Lanes

We have been very lucky with the cottages that we have booked to date and the current one is no exception. Our cottage is what was the Coach House for a Manor House, the stables below now being the car shed for the big house. The Manor was built in 1842, the year my family moved to New Zealand, by a wealthy ship builder and has been in the current family for nearly a hundred years. It was used as a medical practice and when that moved "into town" the house was restored by our hosts mother and our cottage converted from the Coach House. The Manor is a listed building.

Our Cottage with the Big House in the background.

This is the first cottage that we have had which has separate dining room, two bedrooms, walk-in shower and everything one could want. 

It was from here that we went exploring on the Pen - Lynn a peninsular in Northern Wales and home top Pwllheli where we are staying. The peninsular is criss crossed with numerous lanes and I think we probably drove along most of them at some stage during the day going through small towns and villages and finding many excellent coastal walks on the windswept tip of the peninsular. Here the gorse can only struggle to a few inches in height and trees grow less towards the sun and more in the direction which takes them from the pursuing wind. There is not much over a meter in height. This, however, is still a great place for a walk. I am beginning to appreciate what makes a rambler want to do what they do. 

   

Mrs. Currin enjoying a wee walk amongst gorse and heather

    Bardsey Island     

Off the  end of Peninsular is Bardsey Island where in days gone by Pilgrims would flock to visit the place where 20,000 saints were supposed to have come from. There was no ferry to take us on our pilgrimage should we have so wished. Some of these windswept places take you by surprise when on rounding a headland is a bay with a small village. The National Trust have again fought the good fight and rescued many of these places from possible commercialisation by buying them and controlling their use.   

You never  know what will be around the next corner.

( An abandoned? fishing camp.)

All in all we had a fabulous day and all within a radius of 30 miles.

Tomorrow we are hopefully going to complete some unfinished business by doing the train ride to the top of Mt Snowdon, so an early start beckons and a wee prayer for the weather to be a triumph for the forecasters and stay fine and warm.

I will let you know how it goes.

             Around every corner is something different.

Oh! I almost forgot. We were going for a walk in yet another little bay when we spotted a couple of people engaged in what we thought was a little sketching, but on drawing closer they were revealed to be TWITCHERS. This was a particularly barren spot and not a bird was to be seen yet they had erected a white board on which they had noted some twenty species that they had spied today. They looked happy.....but.

Twitchers, their patience was rewarded.

Now that is all that we did today so once again I bid you farewell and wish you all the best.

Take care and for those who still need convincing........GO THE MAKOS!!!!!!

David

                                                         

A few days of relaxation

This travelling can be quite tiring and it has  caught up with us a bit so we have decided to have a bit of R&R. This does not mean we have been doing nothing, just less than we may otherwise have attempted.
We have continued our exploration of the Welsh  coast and nearby areas.
Welsh is a strange language to the visitor, containing very few vowels, although there are what may be thought of as substitute vowels such as "W" pronounced "oo". I guess if one thinks of W as "double u" then this makes sense. The intriguing thing is the Welsh are regarded by some as the true English, having been driven to the fringes of Britain by the invading Angles and Saxons. This being the case Welsh could now be the English which has become the almost world language. Scary eh. Anyway back on the coast and enough diversions and distractions. The cliffs of St. Govens had spoiled us and we went in search of further such places. It is the goal of the British Government to have a continuous walking track around the coast and Pembrokeshire is the first county to have completed theirs. there is some 200 miles (about 300k) of coastal walkway in Pembrokeshire and we sat and talked with a vicar who was in the process of completing it from end to end. They run a shuttle bus for walkers so they can be ferried to their overnight accommodation. Great system and well patronised by this walk loving country. The B&Bs along the way also do very well out of the walkways. Alas we had picked the best first and the rest of the coast did not quite measure up, although still very acceptable.

                                                    Ruins in St. Davids

With a population of just 2,000 St.Davids is the smallest city in Britain by both population and land area and if that is not enough is said to be the burial place of St David, the patron Saint of Wales. It does not seem to have much else going for it, so it was off to St Justians for us. This was more to our liking being a windswept sort of place and home to the Lifeboat for St David. The RNLS do a wonderful job around the coast of Britan and are credited with 360 lives saved since the first boat was stationed there in the mid 19th century. Also from here one can catch a boat out to Ramsey Island, popular with twitchers and ramblers, the first because this is a home to puffin birds and the later because they can. I am not a twitcher, but I have always quite liked the puffins, but pride would not allow me to actually go and see them least I be thought one, a twitcher that is.

The RNLI Staion at St Justinians

A little further up the coast is the pretty little town of Porthgain which once was a thriving Port but now reflects in past glories and serves what are reputably the finest fish and chips in all the Principality. I shall have to take their word for it as my waist line forbids all experiments in this direction.

Some happy Ramblers enjoying an ice cream Pothgain

Boats at rest, low tide at Fishguard

Further north we go and next is Fishguard, a relatively large town but it is the sea once more that grabs our attention. As with all of Britain and France the tides can be fairly significant and this can have positive and negative effects. A negative would have to be that you just cannot go boating at any old time the fancy takes you, but if you want too give your boats bottom a good old doing then what could be easier.

Today, for a complete change in direction we stayed inland and went garden touring. It is obviously not the best of times for gardens being early autumn but still there is enough to make the visits worthwhile.

Aberglasney House and garden

The garden

Mrs Currin in the garden

There is still plenty of colour about and I quite enjoy capturing it with my little camera.

Colour is still all around.

Well it's nearly time for a new episode of "Would I Lie To You" on BBC 1 and I don't want to miss it so I had better get this posted.

Take care...... and you almost did it Makos, next time will be better you will see.

David